Rustler's Gulch, Copper Lake, Oh Be Joyful Trails, Crested Butte. Co.

We recently visited the glorious town of Crested Butte with the dream of wildflowers. Good thing I went last year because the womb was almost barren. For this summer, the drought had taken it's toll. I was able to drum up a little high altitude action, but overall, the wildflowers were not the star of the show. That being said, Crested Butte has more than enough charm to make up for it, and the hiking and scenery is still first class.

It's hard to find a bargain price for lodging in this small mountain paradise, or even in the sister ski hill area, so we spent the first few nights at the Three Rivers resort down the road in Almont. Although a little lacking on the side of privacy, we had a charming cabin, were able to cook our own breakfast, and got to enjoy their excellent outdoor bar and grill. I had one of the best cuban sandwiches ever starring their own pulled pork, and cost of our cabin was half the price of what we paid in the Butte. Next year, if the river is high, we will for sure go 

rafting.

Day One--Copper Lake trail

Hike one was up to a Copper Lake that wove along Copper Creek, and started out with Judd falls. After going last year I knew to drive my AWD to the upper parking spot to avoid a half mile climb up a pretty boring dirt road. If you have to walk, you can still enjoy the views though. Judd falls probably knocks off 85% of the hikers as it's a pretty short jaunt to a show stopper waterfall. There are some lovely Aspen, bunches of flowers and some weather stations put in by the school in Gothic. You can't really climb down to the falls without risking your life, but the view is rather impressive and it was flowing OK even on a dry year. I'll be damned if I can get a good picture though.

Continuing on to Copper lake , you have about 3 more miles. The first 2 are really quite lovely, like walking in a valley between ever impressive cliffs and creek fording at least 4 times. You can step stones, balance on logs, or discover that to hold 2 sticks keep your balance. I suppose if you use hiking poles these will help. Either way, any wet boots are bound to dry when you tackle the last steep mile. I read a few times that it was a push and decided these people must be wimpy hikers. Nope, it was a push. I was sweating, and breathing hard, and going slow. But, I got my workout, and it was in the woods, and the lake is just right.

A couple came behind us and were running the whole way up and back. Gluttons for punishment I tell you. No clue how people can stand the torture of running, much less up a mountain. Towards the top are some very ancient pine groves and also we got some great flower patches. Lots of paintbrush. The lake has a little area you can climb up for the birdseye view. Do it. Also walk around it on the little path. Lots of flower variety including kings crown, columbine, and larkspur. The lake outlet flows in to Copper creek which runs through the valley you hiked, and lends some spectacular views from up here. Pictures can't even touch it. 

This is a great place for a picnic lunch to celebrate your workout. You might want the bug spray too. After enjoying many moments you get to ease on down and look fresh at the expansive views. The whole hike winds between red rocked peaks and by now the clouds should be churning up some fine background viewing. Lots of meadow moments and Aspen displays will keep your appetite whet. I highly recommend dinner in the Butte. Don't miss a stroll down this fabulous old town main street. Yes there will be lots of people. But they are all happy and the art is abundant and I cannot keep a secret about the stash. That is: Secret Stash Pizza. I will be dreaming of this little bohemian pizza palace until we meet again. I had the fig version. Sounds weird, tasted wild and wonderful. This town grows in me like a wild rose.

Day Two--Oh Be Joyful trail

Oh Be Joyful! No, I did not say that when I woke up. Hardly. Not in this lifetime. But that IS the name of the trail we hiked today. According to our hostess at the Three Rivers Resort, there is no way to feel but that, when you are hiking here. I bet it's true, on a little bit wetter year, but we got the idea. This trail is indeed, a walk in the park. It skirts the Slate river and creek the whole way and there are waterfalls and the constant rushing sound of a mountain stream. However, we did not get the full attack this year. You can ford the creek with your car and park near the campground. At least with an all wheel drive you can. But the first mile of jeep road to actually get to the trail is somewhat hardcore. I've been beating my Nissan Rogue pretty bad but I would not even think of attempting this stretch of dirt with it. So, that means walk. I didn't see a single truck up there this day. Plan on the extra mile. Kind of a pain but you get to gaze over the Slate and imagine the world class kayaking that takes place in the spring. There are some crazy drop offs and slides that must be mind blowing. People come from all over to do this. What a rush. Not for the inexperienced. Beautiful and wild. 

Then you get to the trail head and you just ease on down the path. Big sky, big meadow, big views, no climb. Like I said; walk in the park. I can't even imagine how spectacular this would be with the meadows lush with flowers and the waterfalls running high. It was pretty good as it was. Blue sky, red peaks, fluffy clouds, yellow corn plants already looking like fall. We go early and have this endless meadow theater to ourselves most of the way. It's 3 easy miles to the Daisy Pass cut off. I wanted to do the 2 extra miles up to Blue lake but we had new shoes and were both having boot trouble from yesterdays hike. Oh well. We admire a large twisted driftwood that looks exactly like a deer, and have lunch on a log by the creek. A chipmunk joins us when Steve throws a pringle and I get some great shots. On the way back we pass some riders. This seems to be a big horse trail. They just saw a black bear foraging across the way. We look sharp but no luck. Walking back down the steep jeep road kills our feet and when we get to the bottom we trade our boots for flip flops and wade in the Slate with a beer. All is well. Even, maybe, a little joyful.

 

 Day Three--Rustler's Gulch Trail

Moving on up the road to our lovely B&B in Crested Butte we continue our journey of the lucky ones. Lucky to be alive and living in Colorado where such Purple mountain majesty reigns supreme. And with that I should mention the wonderful Purple Mountain Lodge, our digs for the next 2 days. Right off the center of town with peace and quiet, friendly co-bedders and a host with the most. Really, Chris is about the coolest, helpfullest (yep I made that word up) best-est breakfast cook you could ever hope for. He keeps up with the town and flower hot spots, gives you a morning action report, and cooks you up an absolute gorgeous, healthy, filling sit down breakfast in his chefs outfit. This will keep me coming back despite Steve thinking I am a big spender. It's totally worth it. And certainly no more expensive than anywhere in the little gem town of Crested Butte. Sometimes paradise has a price. Chris has lived there around 12 yrs. I think and they still rent due to the outrageous price of real estate.

So, we rest up in our teeny and breezy room before heading out on the town. It's so mellow and pleasant here. Like walking in a happy dream. Everyone has old school bikes like in Amsterdam and they make them up all artsy and park them in the front yard with no locks. Then, there must be a building code to keep the old miner style and the combination of original fix-ups along with new construction following authentic style is stunning. Great great homes here. Don't get excited though. A tiny cabin costs a cool mill. Lots and lots of food choices with the prices pretty normal for any touristy mountain town. We hang out on a tavern porch for dinner and watch the artsy world stroll by. Next yr. Ill get some town shots. Something to come back for. As if I need an excuse!

I am hiking alone today. Steve has a blister but can somehow still ride a bike which Chris has for free use. No worries. I dig hiking alone. I don't feel like I'm holding anyone up with my photo work. So I drive on up to Rustler's Gulch. It's down Gothic Road on the right a few miles past the Judd falls trail. Been reading good things about this one but there is no lake so I am not too excited. Ha, my bad. I hit the trail and flower jackpot. I drive up the steep but not so rocky jeep road. Poor little Nissan. Tires are bald so I figure I may as well beat em before I get new ones. I am so glad I drove up. It's steep and sunny and would hurt my toes when I was coming down. My new shoes are not proving to be so hike worthy.

Alone again naturally, I hit the trail. Just like I like it. It's perfect out. I go through some lovely groves of pine and quite a bit of marsh area but except for large quantities of fireweed, the flowers are lame again. Not so for the views. If this is a “Gulch” it's a good place to have 360 views. I am surrounded by really green mountain sides with red rock and there is a valley stream and an intense slate range in front of me. I spin circles and celebrate life. 

After about 2 miles of a very gradual climb and very impressive scenery, I strike gold. A few patches of color are springing up and then---ka-bamb! I come across the hottest patch of flowers in the county. Both below me spilling down towards the creek bed and above me up the hillside. I know it's another half mile to the mine shaft that marks the finis of the main trail, but I stay here. I spend at least an hour creeping through the grass up and down the hills and breathing in the flowerific beauty. With my sunglasses on I am thinking I will become the Crested Butte poster child of the future, but actually the sun was a bit high for truly good shots. I didn't know this till later, so more fool me in a real good way.

I finally pull myself up to go down. I tell everyone I pass that they are in for a thrill. They all get excited. Like I said it's a slow year. On the way back down I do a little dance. Also, I search and search and search for the illusive Glacier lily. I think it's too late. Who cares, I have had heaven sent today. Next year I will find her.

We take an evening drive out way down Gothic road. I want to see Emerald lake which really is emerald and impressive. Due to the evening hours I get some great shots. Gothic road is always a sight. If you don't hike you can get some of the best views in Colorado here.

After another amazing breakfast by Chris at Purple Mountain we decide to finish our trip on the bicycle build for 2. Something happens here I can't quite put into words. I am suddenly in a surreal world of bliss unlike much I have ever experienced. Maybe it's the town, maybe it's the sunny summer day, maybe it's the nostalgic freedom of the bike. I have fallen into a state of grace and satisfaction that justifies every reason I have ever been on this planet. We ride our quaint double bike through the pastel town on a perfect July morning. There are kids out playing on their decks and eating Popsicles. There is a class of daycare kids and their young councilors splashing in the river and others having brown bag lunches at a wooden picnic table. There's a group of boys jumping their dirt bikes at a little makeshift mound. A few people ride by. Mom's and babies, families. There is a wooden town bike trail we click over. It's almost quiet. A dog, a far off dump truck, the shouts of a few kids. There are daisys. There are green mountains all around me. Every house has a colorful flower garden. Three little girls park their bikes wheel to wheel and put there heads together for a serious talk about......what's the best gum?

As we leave town I am happy and sad and full of life. We have to stop at the cross walk cause a class of 4 yr. olds with sunhats, baseball caps and shades are crossing. They all wave. The sky is blue. China Grove is on the radio. Is this real life? I thank my fortunate stars that indeed, it is.

                                                         Lake Irwin off of Kebler Pass